


My Mom

by AngieGone



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Childhood, Domestic Violence, First Meeting, Friendship, Gen, Kid!Fic, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-29
Updated: 2013-05-29
Packaged: 2017-12-13 08:49:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/822382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngieGone/pseuds/AngieGone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was skinny and pale, with a funny pudgy nose and a face covered in moles. Scott stared at him with the same shy blankness he gave most strangers, but his curiosity was peaked when he took notice of the irregular haircut, if it could even be called that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Mom

**Author's Note:**

> This is unbeta'd so I apologize for any typos or just terrible grammar and sentence structure and just any sort of terribleness :c

The sound of the rattling gurney zipping past made him jump out of his shallow sleep. His disoriented gaze followed the line of the two nurses quickly working with cords and an IV bag as a doctor spoke calmly to the patient in the gurney. In a few seconds the frenzied rush was gone, turning into one of the many white hallways of the hospital, leaving Scott staring numbly in the same direction.

For the past hour he’d been trying to find enough calmness to allow himself to rest, but the beeping, and the rushing, and the low chaotic level of noise made that near impossible.  Shaking himself out of his stupor, the boy stretched his arms over his head before huffing and falling back onto the chair. The fake leather wheezed in protest as he made himself more comfortable. Before he had shut his eyes, an older woman not two seats down had attempted to talk to him. Talking to strangers was never something he did well, opting for either just staring or smiling shyly so as not to be rude. The woman was gone now, luckily.         

He relaxed his body against the chair, puffing out his belly and bringing his fingers up to drum against the swell. His mom called it his ‘love chub.’ “It’s because I love and spoil you so much” she likes to say, which is usually followed by a wave of tickling. By now Scott should have learned to run fast whenever his mother got into her lovey-dovey moods. But as much as he liked to scream and squeal and protest against her deadly tickling, he liked those moments with her. It meant that she was happy, and any small moment of happiness was a nice change from the blank stares and the wariness she usually displayed, especially around his dad.

Love chub was just a cute nickname. The boys at school simply called him fat. They also liked to call him some other names that they thought were funny but really were not. Jackson was always the worst: ignoring him never worked, because he called Scott dumb and a moron for not fighting or retaliating. The only times he ever got away easy was when he smiled and agreed with them, at least to get them off his back. His mom didn’t know about the names, Scott didn’t want to worry her. The one time he did mention something it was to his dad. Dad scoffed and said a man had to deal with his own problems.

Scott sighed loudly, his tummy responding with a grumble. He frowned, glad that it was only a small rumble. He had not eaten since the sandwich his mom made him when he got back from school, right before the fight. Their neighbor rushed them to the hospital after his dad left. His mom sat in the backseat, holding the towel to her face. Scott joined her. He remembers their neighbor speaking to his mom from the front seat, telling her they needed to call the police, but his mother had refused.

When they arrived at the hospital his mom told Scott to wait in the chair he now sat in, firmly telling him not to leave. At any other instance, Scott would have gone exploring around the hospital, just like he did when his mom brought him to work on those days he felt sick (or the days that followed a really bad day at school). But the bloodied lip and the gushing wound on her forehead captured his undivided attention in silent horror when she spoke to him. He nodded and promised he would not leave the seat just as one of her nurse friends arrived with a wheelchair for her.

Once more, his stomach growled and Scott crossed his arms over his belly, frowning in frustration. He wished he had brought his GameBoy or one of his books to keep himself distracted. Trying to defeat that Gym Leader he’d been struggling with for days would have helped, or even immersing himself in Harry’s third year at Hogwarts (Scott was 99.9% sure that Professor Lupin was a werewolf).

A third time his hunger made itself known, this time in a loud groan much to his embarrassment. Scott groaned in complaint just as loudly, his mouth creasing at an odd angle and his brow furrowing furiously. He wouldn’t get up. He wouldn’t. His mom told him not to leave the chair.  And what if he did and then his mom showed up and not found him there? What if she worried and freaked out? It wouldn’t be fair, after what had happened. It wouldn’t be fair for her to worry. His stomach complained even louder.  

“What you have in there? A monster?”

Startled by the voice, Scott looked over to meet wide curious eyes. The boy looked about the same age as him, and was sitting on the same seat, two chairs down, where the older woman had been sitting on earlier. He was skinny and pale, with a funny pudgy nose and a face covered in moles. Scott stared at him with the same shy blankness he gave most strangers, but his curiosity was peaked when he took notice of the irregular haircut, if it could even be called that. Tufts of hair grew longer in some spots while others were short and closer to his scalp. He had a small dark blue Batman bandage right on his hairline, over his left eye, but other than that he did not appear sickly or hurt.

“No, I’m just hungry,” Scott mumbled.

The boy made a funny face, like he was recoiling back from Scott’s words, before rolling his eyes, “I know _that_ ,” he said with a sigh, “No monster? Boring.”

 Scott looked at him with a frown while the he turned around to the chair besides him. He grabbed a black and grey backpack and placed it on his lap. Scott noticed the black Batman symbol on the front pocket, surrounded by a yellow oval. The odd boy opened the main zipper of the backpack and rummaged for a second before taking out a plastic baggie with a sandwich inside. He tossed it over to Scott. As soon as it landed on his lap, Scott didn’t hesitate to open it.

 “We brought my mom PB&Js. They’re her favorite. This dumb place won’t give her any good food,” the boy said with a shrug as he brought an arm to rest on the armrest. He leaned his chin on his hand, looking at Scott as he began to dig into the sandwich.

Scott took his first bite and chewed quickly, but not before shooting the boy a guarded look, “They do that for a reason,” he said, mouth full of chunky peanut butter and strawberry jam, “My mom is a nurse here, she says the food is important for a careful diet.”

The boy scoffed, “Yeah, I bet _diet_ is real important for her,” he said, his eyes analyzing Scott from where he sat.

Scott was in the middle of his second and bigger bite, still chewing, when the boy spoke, “ Wuffsat—” he chewed the last few bits quickly and swallowed angrily, “What’s that supposed to mean!?”

The kid grinned, “I was just joki—”

“Well it’s not funny, you don’t know anything about my mom.” Scott snapped. At school, he would shut up and take the insults from Jackson and his fatheaded cronies. But he wasn’t in school, this kid was a stranger, and he had no one to back him up or intimidate Scott with. He didn’t have to take any kind of crap from him. And if the boy continued thinking it was “funny” then maybe he’d finally _deal_ with it like a man, the same way his dad dealt with his problems: with a fist and a punch.

“Whoa, okay, jeez sorry…” the boy said with a frown, moving farther away in his seat rather than leaning against the armrest. Crossing his arms, he frowned and leaned against the back of his chair. He remained like that for a few silent seconds before grumbling, “A ‘thank you’ would be nice.”

Scott stopped his eating and glanced at the sandwich. He’d taken big bites so it was already half eaten. He looked back up at the boy, who sat with his arms crossed staring blankly at the space in front of him. His funny pudgy nose curved upward right at the tip, and the frown on his face made his lips purse out in annoyance. A sudden wave of guilt hit Scott as he glanced back down at the sandwich in his lap. The boy was right, though. Scott hadn’t even thanked him. He could have gone about the whole situation a little better, maybe not by being so rude. He shyly shifted in his seat, holding the sandwich with embarrassment.

A dark shiver ran down his spine, remembering the way his dad had lunged for his mother. Would his dad have been proud of the way he handled the problem? Would he have even cared?

“S—” he hesitated for a moment, biting his lip, “I’m sorry,” he finished, eyes downcast. His dad always said that saying sorry was a show of weakness, but he knew that he had hurt the boy’s feelings without intending to.

The boy glanced at him from the corner of his eyes for a long moment, his gaze a little too serious. A wide grin appeared on his face then, before quickly turning to face Scott completely, “It’s okay, I’m sorry too!” he said, smiling wide and showing two missing teeth.

Scott gave him a shy smile in response before taking another, smaller bite of the sandwich. He wasn’t sure how to continue the conversation, but he did continue eating. The boy kept looking at him, sort of waiting. He drummed his hands against the armrest and Scott looked at him once again. They shared another smile, a little more awkwardly this time.

“Is it good? My dad makes the best PB&Js, that’s why they’re my mom’s favorite,” the boy asked.

Scot nodded, “Uh, yeah, it’s good,” it tasted like any other regular PB&J to him. But he wasn’t going to say that to him. He thought it wouldn’t be nice after apologizing for what had just happened. He finished the sandwich in silence, licking his fingers of some jam and peanut butter that had fallen through.

“So, um, you like Batman,” Scott noted aloud.

The boy instantly brightened, his eyes shinning, “Yeah!! He’s awesome. The best! Do you like him? Do you have a favorite bad guy? Favorite Robin? I like The Riddler. And Dick Grayson ‘cause he gets to be Batman!” the boy’s voice was a quick and excited ramble.

Scott smiled lightly once more, “I guess, I like Superman better though,” he wasn’t sure how to answer the other questions. Favorite Robin? There was more than one? And other than The Joker, Scott didn’t know much about Batman’s villains. Superman had always interested him a lot more than the black clad vigilante.

The odd boy’s mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, “What?! Superman?! Come on you can’t be serious?” he said with a laugh.

Scott shrugged and grinned, “Well he has superpowers, he can fly and he has super strength. And it’s awesome that his power comes from the sun. So yeah, Superman is definitely my favorite.”

“But _because_ Batman isn’t a superhero and just a regular guy in a suit, that makes him more awesome!” the boy said excitedly, his arms flailing around for emphasis. As he spoke, he stood from the chair and moved one over, this time sitting right beside Scott. “Why would the Justice League even let a human dude in if he wasn’t super awesome like Bruce Wayne?”

Scott looked at the boy with a crooked smile before chuckling, “Well…I guess you’re right,” he said.

The boy smiled proudly before pulling his legs up on the chair, “I’ll forgive you liking Superman because him and Batman are best buds. What’s your name by the way?” he asked with a tilt of his head.

“Scott,” he answered, quite easily which came as a surprise to him.  

“I’m Stiles,”

Scott looked at Stiles with a confused expression, “What kind of name is Stiles?”

“It’s what my mom calls me, my real name is really weird.”

“What name can be weirder than Stiles?” Scott questioned.

Stiles bright face became deadly serious for a moment, “Don’t ask.”

Scott furrowed his brow and then shrugged before reclining against the back of the chair and looking at Stiles, “I’ve never seen you around Beacon Hills before, are you in a different class at BHE?”

“Nope. I’ve been home schooled my whole life and we just moved here cause my dad got promoted to sheriff,” he said with another little proud smile.

“Your dad is the new sheriff?” the thought of police made him feel a little on edge.

“Yep, Sheriff Stilinski,”

“Your name is Stiles…Stilinski,” Scott questioned again with a scrutinizing gaze.

And once more the boy’s face went dead still, “Really. Don’t Ask.”

Scott chuckled once more, “Okay, I promise I won’t ask again.”

Stiles smiled, “Good. I’m actually going to start school next year for middle school! My dad said mom can’t teach me anymore,” Stiles shrugged, “I’ve been begging forever so, I’m cool with it,”

“Oh cool. I’m actually starting middle school too. But, my mom says that she’s been thinking about taking me out of school, because she thinks I’m being bullied,” Scott answered.

“ _Are_ you being bullied?” Stiles asked with a blank stare.

Scott shrugged in response and that was the end of that conversation. Luckily Stiles seemed to get the hint, “So um, why are you here? In the hospital?” Scott asked to deviate from the topic.

“My mom, you?” Stiles asked in return.

“Same” Scott said with a blink, “Why is your mom here?”

“Why is _your_ mom here?”

“I asked first.”

“I asked second.”

Scott gave him another confused look before shaking his head and then scowling, “You’re kind of weird.”

“I know, I’m home schooled,” Stiles said with a nonchalant look. He grinned before leaning forward, “Let’s say it at the same time.”

“What?”

“Why our moms are here? Let’s say it at the same time. On three?” Scott looked at the boy and then gave him a slight nod in response, “Cool. One….two…three. ”

“My mom got beat up by my dad.”

“My mom has cancer.”

The sounds of the hospital seemed to get louder for that one moment, as the two boys sat across from each other in utter silence. The boys watched each other carefully until Scott leaned back against his seat awkwardly and Stiles lowered his gaze to the ground.

“That’s…I’m sorry,” Scott said softly. He didn’t know anyone personally who suffered from the disease, although his mother always talked about it from the hospital patients.  

Stiles’s eyes flickered up and he gave Scott a smile, “My dad says she’s getting better, so it’s not so bad…but, um, your mom…that must be scary,” the boy said, surprisingly shy compared to how he’d been acting just moments ago.

Scott frowned, “I’m used to it,” he mumbled. Although Stiles was nice enough not to ask, Scott could see he was still curious. Lacing his fingers together, Scott’s lips became a tight line, biting the inside of his cheek before continuing, “My dad gets angry really easily. He’s gotten angry with me but…my mom is always there and…” he huffed and then stopped for a moment. Why was he talking about this? He never talked about this, not even to his mom who never hesitated in asking if everything was all right after one of his dad’s breakdowns. It wasn’t worth it, because his mother would only worry more. He obviously couldn’t talk to his dad because that would beat the purpose. The teachers at school would mostly likely call the cops and the other boys would probably tease him even more. So here he was, talking with this strange boy and spilling out information he never thought worth sharing.

“You’re…” Stiles’s voice made Scott look up suddenly as the boy awkwardly reached over and touched his cheek. Scott’s mouth was about to open up in protest when Stiles pulled back to wipe his hand on his pants, “You were crying,” the boy said plainly.

Scott blinked before reaching up himself and feeling the moistness in his eyes, “Oh. Sorry, I probably look like a wuss,” Scott sniffed.

Stiles smiled and shook his head, “Everyone is allowed to cry, you know,” another big smile was flashed at Scott. He rubbed a hand through his uneven scalp, “I cried when this happened,” he said tapping the bandage with a finger.

“What exactly happened? You look like a badly mowed lawn,” Scott said.

Stiles grimaced “My mom began that thing that makes all her hair fall off—”

"Chemotherapy?”

“Yep! That. She started it today. So I wanted to do it with her, so she wouldn’t be by herself, and my dad was busy so he couldn’t do it, but I wanted it done by the time I saw mom today, so I just picked up his razor and cut myself and now I have to wait till my dad buys clippers,” Stiles extended his arms theatrically to either side of him and bowed.

Scott smiled and laughed, “That’s really nice of you, doing that for your mom.”

Stiles shrugged and smiled in return. Not a moment passed before his eyes lit up and he animatedly leaned over Scott once more, “Do you want to meet her? My dad should be back soon to take me up! She’s always telling me I should be making more friends!”

“Oh…umm…” Scott looked about the sitting area with a careful gaze before frowning, “I can’t leave, my mom said I should stay here and wait for her,” he muttered sadly.

Stiles frowned dramatically, “Awwww,” he huffed and sat back down, the fake leather chair hissing. Stiles face was screwed into an upset pout.

Scott didn’t want to end his time with Stiles either. It had been a while since someone had actually actively spoken to him other than his mother or a teacher. Having someone who was _excited_ about talking with him and even _disappointed_ about having to leave was something that Scott had little knowledge of, but so far he liked it. 

Just as Scott was about to ask Stiles if he wanted to hang out some other time, he heard the sound of his mom’s voice. He looked over and watched as she was making herself down the hallway, speaking with another nurse quietly. She was smiling gently when she turned her gaze over to where Scott had been waiting.  

The boy was out of his chair and running for his mom in seconds. When he reached her, he wrapped his arms around her waist as tightly as he could without hurting her more than she already was. She huffed in surprise and a warm laugh escaped her as she placed a hand on the top of his head, “Scott, baby, are you okay?” she said, her voice laced with a small careful chuckle.

Scott looked up then, noticing the bandages on her face as well as the wrapped up wrist. His eyes stung as he nodded and smiled widely, only because that’s all he could think of doing now that he knew his mom was all right. This time he didn’t stop the tears and he didn’t tell himself he would look weak if he did.

“Oh, Scott…” she whispered as she leaned down to press a kiss to the top of his head, “Don’t worry, baby…don’t worry I’m all right, everything is all right” she pet his head for a moment, before stopping momentarily “And…hello?” her voice spoke up curiously.

Scott looked around his shoulder. Stiles was standing behind him, waving a hand up casually and smiling, “Oh, um, mom this is Stiles,” Scott said, sniffing and brushing his tears away with his forearms, before smiling at Stiles and then back at his mom.

“Stiles? Well, nice to meet you Stiles,” she said sweetly.

“Nice to meet you too Scott’s mom,” Stiles said with that big smile of his.

It made her smile even wider, “Is this a friend from school, Scott? Why haven’t you ever told me about him?”

“No, his family just moved here, his dad is the new sheriff.” Scott answered looking up at his mom.

“Is my son bothering you, ma’am?” the three of them looked over to the man approaching them, his eyes moving from Scott and his mom to Stiles curiously.

“I ain’t bothering them!” Stiles said loudly before walking over to his dad haughtily and grinning wide. He pulled on his dad’s shirt and lowered his voice to an over exaggerated whisper, “Dad I made a friend. This is Scott and Scott’s mom!”

His father scoffed and smiled, “Yes, I can see that,” he said before looking over at the woman. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, taking in her appearance before extending out a hand, “John Stilinski, nice to meet you.”

“Melissa McCall,” she spoke without faltering, extending her good hand and giving the sheriff a firm handshake.

John gave Melissa a long look. Scott watched the man carefully with a blank expression for a moment, before looking up at his mom. She was returning the stare, but there was a small flicker in her eyes that Scott knew all too well. Scott frowned before looking right back at the sheriff.

The man gave Melissa a small smile before nodding and looking down at Stiles, patting his shoulder, “Get your backpack, buddy, mom’s waiting.” Remembering he left his backpack, Stiles eyes widened before he bolted back to the sitting area to retrieve it.

Sheriff Stilinski watched as his boy ran off before pulling out his wallet and opening it up. From it he took out a small card and handed it over to Melissa. Melissa took the card, the first sign of hesitation showing with a twitch of her fingers before they touched the small paper card. She looked at the card and Scott tried getting on his tiptoes to take a peek. All he saw was John Stilinski’s name, the words “Beacon Hills Police Department” and “Sheriff” under the name, as well as a phone number. They shared one last unspoken word, and Scott looked at the two of them with slight confusion.

Stiles returned not a moment later a little breathless, his backpack in tow “Dad, can Scott come over sometime?” he asked excitedly.

John smiled and nodded, “Of course…anytime Scott wants to come over he can,” Stiles’s face lighted up as he looked over at Scott with such childish excitement, “You’re… _both_ welcomed in our home, for any kind of reason,” John said again, smiling lightly.

Melissa lowered her gaze, smiled and nodded, “That sounds wonderful, doesn’t it Scott?” she whispered.

Scott shared a big grin with Stiles before nodding vigorously, “Yeah, thank you Sheriff!”

The sheriff smiled politely before looking down at his son “Come on, your mom’s going to laugh when she sees the mess you made of your hair,” the man said, ruffling Stiles’s head.

The boys said their farewells, John and Melissa sharing one last silent nod, before Scott and his mom headed towards the exit. Their neighbor was waiting for them outside with the car. She and his mom spoke about the injuries and Scott remained silent, watching his mom from the backseat. They arrived at their home fairly quickly. His dad wasn’t there, and Scott wasn’t going to guess how long he would be gone this time. There had been times before this that he’d left for a week or two. But no other time had been as violent as this one.

Scott padded his way into the house, stopping to look at the broken plate pieces that had flown from the kitchen to the foyer. He looked down at them before leaning down and starting to pick them up.

“Scott, sweetie, no don’t do that,” his mom said gently, walking over to him. She crouched beside him, grabbing his hand carefully to stop him. 

Scott looked at the ground, “Stiles’s hair was weird because he shaved it liked that.”

Melissa tilted her head, “Now that you mention it, I was wondering abou—”

“He did it for his mom because she has cancer and was starting the chemotherapy,” he muttered.

His mom stopped, looking at him for a long moment before smiling sadly and touching his cheek gently, “He seems like a nice boy, I’m glad you made a friend,” she said softly.

“Can I do this for you? I want to,” Scott said looking up at his mom with a serious gaze.

Melissa looked at her son, a little taken aback by his reaction. She sighed softly, before nodding, “Just…be careful.”

“I will, I promise.” he took his hand back and then headed into the kitchen to find a trash bag.

Scott picked up the pieces and cleaned the food that had spilled as much as he could. It probably wasn’t as perfect as how his mom usually left the kitchen. When his mother came in to inspect there were some spots that had been left messy, blotches at random places that Scott had missed, while other places had been spotless. Later that night, Melissa noticed a small bandage wrapped around his finger. Scott had cut himself on a piece of a plate, but assured her it was only a small cut.

The next morning, before Scott headed off for school, Melissa noticed a blue Superman symbol drawn into the bandage. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is a personal headcanon of mine, but I also used some of the tropes found throughout the fandom (Stiles's mom having cancer, and Scott's dad being abusive). Also, my own headcanon that Scott was chubby when he was younger. I wanted to write in Scott's perspective, because I can relate to that a lot more easily than knowing what it feels like when a family member has cancer. 
> 
> Hope you guys enjoyed it, at least a little bit.


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